The Invention of Albertine: Confession of an Epicurean

―by guest writer AlbertCAN

“Indeed, my roving mind was busy with a thousand projects: a novel, travel, a play, marketing a fruit cocktail of my own invention. (Don’t ask for the recipe; I have forgotten it.)”
 ~Jean-Dominique Bauby, «Le Scaphandre et le Papillon» (1997)

Lucid intoxication is the best tease: a demure wink, the deft nudge. L'Art de la séduction interdite. With verve and panache, an exquisite intrigue is truly a meeting of the minds, for the transcendent provocation can only be mischievous when done right; any more or less the pas de deux of sensuality goes awry.

Regina Lambert: Oh, did they do that kind of thing way back in your day?
Peter Joshua: Sure. How do you think I got here?*

Source: Uploaded by user via Cheryl on Pinterest

Thus the psyche was in full epicurean swing when putting together my new signature champagne cocktail one recent morning, which took all but one nifty trial. Elena initially half-jokingly referred to it as Albertini—lovely idea, but the recipe’s lack of gin and vermouth called for a slightly different signature, so Albertine it was christened.

I have the recipe below, and true to my style it’s deceptively simple: always get the best quality ingredients one could afford when effortless chic is called for.

photo copyrighted by AlbertCAN

Albertine

One 750 mL bottle Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin brut champagne, well chilled
One carton (1 L) of unsweetened pineapple juice, well chilled
One bottle of orange blossom water
Twelve classic 6 oz. champagne flutes
Serves twelve: In each flûte à champagne add ¼ teaspoon of orange blossom water and ¼ cup of pineapple juice. The flute should be half full at this point. Top off with brut champagne. Serve immediately.

Vierge Albertine: Non-alcoholic variation. Substitute the champagne with equal part unflavoured sparkling water. (I prefer Perrier or San Pellegrino.)

Of course, the recipe in practice has plenty of savoir-faire in spades: get a 350 mL bottle of brut bubbly to halve the serving for an intimate six, or multiply thereafter according to one’s entertainment needs. Even compatible with all champagne glasses so long the master ratio below is followed:

¼ teaspoon orange blossom water for every ¼ cup unsweetened pineapple; half juice, half champagne in each glass.

I selected Veuve Clicquot because the aromatic bouquet is exceedingly smooth and intricate—not to mention beautifully priced in my end of Canada —yet frankly any dry sparkling wine of quality shall suffice. The operative words here being, of course, quality and sensibility: a delicate Prosecco could easily step in, but anything too cheaply priced is probably just, well, too cheap in taste. As for the exclusive editions of Perrier-Jouët, Louis Roederer Cristal and Dom Pérignon are definitely not expected—but who am I to say no to Dom Pérignon at a perfect moment?

Now a word of caution: Albertine, not unlike the eponymous heroine in Proust’s «À la recherche du temps perdu», goes down smooth and lingers on. An undisciplined can easily glean over six servings at once! So please experiment responsibly.

The champagne cocktail is dedicated to Jean-Dominique Bauby, whose memoir “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” honed my aesthetics many moons ago.

"My diving bell becomes less oppressive, and my mind takes flight like a butterfly. There is so much to do. You can wander off in space or in time, set out for Tierra del Fuego or for King Midas's court. You can visit the woman you love, slide down beside her and stroke her still-sleeping face. You can build castles in Spain, steal the Golden Fleece, discover Atlantis, realise your childhood dreams and adult ambitions." -Jean Dominique Bauby, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

* Quotes from “Charade” (1963)

"I simply am not there"

"There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman. Some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me. Only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours, and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable, I simply am not there".

Quite a few products and scented things in his cabinet in this infamous scene. Care to identify them?

Perfumery Material: Lactones and Milk Notes

The subtly sweet, cozy, comforting scent of milk is a prized note in perfumes. Not only does it create a regression to childhood, welcome solace, but it enhances floral components and matches the sweeter elements really well. White florals and classical chypres often exhibit "milky" notes, due to added lactones, components whose name derives indeed from the Latin for milk; this is because in nature tuberose, jasmine and gardenia do contain lactones among hundreds of other molecules in their chemical makeup. And so do certain fruits which find themselves recreated in fruity chypres, such as plum, peach and apricot. Their infamous skin compatibility (bordering on the naughtily cuddly) isn't such a mystery; our bodies decompose proteins breaking them up in analogous materials, therefore lactones stick well on skin.

The recent rise of the gourmand fragrances sub-group (classified within the Oriental fragrance family) exhibited lots of fragrances that take milk notes as a departing point: either as wholesome as milk itself (notably in Matin Calin by Compotoir Sud Pacifique) or reminding us of milky desserts, such as rice pudding (as in Kenzo Amour), the condensed milk used in sweet tea (Jo Malone Tea Collection Sweet Milk), or crocus-tinged milk puddings (L'Artisan Parfumeur Saffran Troublant).

Source: l99.com via Lin on Pinterest

Retro and vintage fragrances are often described as "lactonic" when they exhibit milky facets, in contrast to contemporary fragrances under the gourmet umbrella; that's because lactonic although derivative of the Latin word for milk (lac, hence lacto- etc.) is a very specific perfumery jargon term denoting the conscious use of lactones, which was especially common in older fragrances. Lactones are cyclic esters uniting an alcohol group and a carboxylic group in the same molecule.

 The most usual lactones used are peach lactone (which has a milky peachy underone like in Caron's Fleurs de Rocaille) or milk lactone (Mugler's Dis-Moi Mirror has it). You can find lactones in infamous examples such as Le Feu d'Issey or Rush by Gucci. An unusual lactone emerging in a contemporary perfume is massoia lactone in Santal Massoia by Hermes., but the evocation of sandalwood and fig sap is possible because the materials themselves possess a milky facet.

Although milky notes smell similar to the drinkable variety, in reality the actual nourishing substance isn't used. Milky notes are rendered through illusion, via other materials, such as vanilla or sandalwood very often (as in Santal Blanc by Serge Lutens). These materials naturally have a "creamy" facet, a smooth, sweetish quality about them which can be interpreted as "milky" in compositions. Other materials such as musk from angelica or the resin benzoin have a fluffy ambience which can come across as milky in the right context.



The use of lactones (see above) is a shortcut into putting a milk note into a perfume: the effect can be creamier or peachier or woodier depending on the calibrating of proportion and context. The effect of lactones into boosting the creamy facets of white flowers is the main reason why they were used so frequently in the past.

Milky notes seem to hit upon a sensitive nerve in perfume lovers and consumers in general. Almost as if going on a Jungian archetype they evoke a sense of fulfilment, sustenance of the body and the soul, a comforting elation that pampers the emotions when in stress. The popularity of milky notes is only set to rise as the times get tougher.

Roxana Illuminated Perfume Figure 1: Noir : Fragrance Review

The darkness of the night descends on the village, its tall chimneys and church bell tops eclipsed by the long shadows cast by primordial spirits, by wraiths, the flashes of strange illuminations marshaling the nighttime sky like snuffed pyrotechnics. The earth below, seemingly barren, hides in its gut an untrammeled secret, a secret with long tentacles creeping beneath soil and rock.



This Figure 1: Noir, this study on the inherent darkness of patchouli essence and of unusual herbal aromatics has an intoxicating effect, the murmur of perverse sweetness traveling on the wavelength of a morbid longing. What is it that makes these chthonian vibes rebound in one's heart of hearts? What is this calling, this piper who promises a golden lair and the forests echoing with laughter? There are things which we do not speak of. There are emotions we cannot put into a defined shape, marking the outline separating inner from outer world. Similarly, Figure 1: Noir sparked that eternally unfulfilled curiosity, that desire to capture the uncapturable, swirls of low earth rising for the skies, flesh vying to become spirit.

Figure 1: Noir is an intriguing all naturals perfume oddity, deep and resinous with a loamy plume of botanical musk featuring harmonious notes of patchouli, green vetiver, Mysore sandalwood, orris and valerian juxtaposed with the pungent tartness of buchu leaf, black cumin, green cognac and davana. The effect is as intimate and universal as human skin with an unsettling wild animalic shadow.

Available by Roxana Illuminated Perfume at Etsy in both liquid perfume and solid. (Image illustration by Greg Spalenka)

The winner of the draw...

...for the Caligna bottle is MariGo84. Congratulations! Please email me with your shipping data, using Contact or the address in my profile, so I can have this out to you in the mail soon. Thanks everyone for the enthusiastic participation and till the next one, very soon. ;)